


Nico Meets Rocky Horror (whether he wants to or not)

by Queenie_Mab



Series: PJO ficlets and oneshots [6]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Cosplay, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_Mab/pseuds/Queenie_Mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason's invited them to some live show, cabaret thing, and Nico isn't prepared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nico Meets Rocky Horror (whether he wants to or not)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bailci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bailci/gifts).



> Also inspired by the [Rocky Horror Picture Show](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rocky_Horror_Picture_Show) (Link to wiki article).
> 
> Based on prompt #35 "You heard me. Take. It. Off." from an [ask-meme](http://mab-speaks.tumblr.com/post/113494424154) on Tumblr. Requested by [bailci](http://bailci.tumblr.com/).

~*~

  


I bang on the bathroom door. "Come on, Will. We're supposed to be there in half an hour!"

"I know!" he calls back. "Just putting the last touches on my outfit!"

I throw up my hands and stomp back to the living room. I don't even want to go to this thing. Jason invited us to some movie showing, a cult classic cabaret, and if Will hadn't overheard him, maybe we would have had a nice night in for once. It's not often Will has a free night with all the classes he's taking. 

I drop to the couch. I'm sulking, I know it. 

Finally, the bathroom door opens, spilling out coconut scented steam. "All set!" he declares, sounding defiantly satisfied. I glare at the blank television set, wondering what is wrong with watching a movie here instead, and then I look up and my jaw drops. 

He has to be kidding. He's dressed in a black vinyl corset over shiny golden briefs, black nylon stockings held in place with garters. He has a red sequined glove on one hand running up over his elbow and a black one on the other, a red feathered boa draped over his shoulders and arms. He's wearing make-up so his face looks like a mask, white for the base, his features outlined in black, eyelids highlighted and exaggerated with blue and his lips in cherry red. His nipples show over the top of the corset and his blond hair shines blonder than ever. 

I stare, not quite believing my eyes. 

He stamps his foot, and I see he's wearing heels too. "Well, come on. We're going to be late! Jason and Piper are going as Riff-Raff and Magenta, and Percy and Annabeth as Brad and Janet. You look fine as Eddie."

These words are nonsense in my ears. He isn't serious about going out in public, dressed like this.

"Off!" My voice sounds hoarse to my own ears. He's too fucking sexy for his own good and there is no way in Hades I'm letting anybody else see him like this. 

"What?" he asks, frowning at me. "Tell me you didn't lie about watching the movie when I asked you to. Everybody's going to be dressed like this."

I shake my head. No way. "You heard me. Take. It. Off." I'm not sure if it's anger I'm feeling or if I just want to watch him undress. Man, those golden panties cling to him so well. My face is hot, my eyes wide. I'm almost ready to pounce on him and tear him out of the clothes myself. 

Will knows me too well. He plays me for all I'm worth. He walks over to me, his heels putting him a good foot taller and walks me backwards until I hit the wall, his knee sliding effortlessly between my thighs, pinning me in place. 

"Nico di Angelo. I have been wanting to go to a live Rocky Horror Cabaret for the last ten years. You will not talk me out of it." I swallow hard. His eyes are beautiful on their own, but with the eyeliner and color, they hold me enthralled. It's fear that has my heart pounding so hard, I know it is. Will could seriously own me if he wanted to. He grabs my crotch and smirks. "I promise to take care of this _after_ the show, capiche?"

I nod, forcing myself to close my mouth. I get it. If we don't go, I don't get laid. 

He grins, then looks at my forehead. "Damn. I need to grab a couple of pencils. You're supposed to have a gash right under your hairline." He steps away and walks to the bathroom, calling over his shoulder: "We'll need to shadow travel. There's no way we'll make it otherwise."

I close my eyes, taking deep breaths. When he comes back and writes the letters spelling out LOVE and HATE above my knuckles, and I can only smile, I'm sure of it: I'm owned. 

Stranger still, I don't think I really mind.


End file.
